Ada stood beneath the brown and white awning and locked the coffee shop doors behind her as the spring breeze nipped at her skin. It was an unpredictable time of year. The weather was pleasant enough during the day to wear short sleeves. That night was a different story and felt more like a wintry February rather than May.

The evening was so quiet, Ada could hear her own heart beating. Going to his home was inappropriate. Although she trusted him, that trust did not change the situation. She should not be going to his apartment. It didn't matter that she would only be his student for another month. It also didn't matter that she was two months away from nineteen.

The fact was that she shouldn't be going there and doing what she wasn't supposed to was not Ada's style. Yet there she was, standing under a crescent moon and a black sky pin pricked with white stars, her feet tempting her across an empty street. The only thing that was making her question whether or not to walk across the street were those damn rules she always followed.

He wasn't going to let those rules stop him, the one with everything to lose in all this, so Ada decided not to let it stop her either. Filled with guilt ridden excitement for breaking those rules, she crossed her arms for warmth and rushed across the street by the light of the old street lamps.

"Hey you!" Mr. B yelled from above as he stood on a balcony holding a cup of coffee between both hands. He wore the same black tee shirt as before, the frigid night not seeming to bother him.

"How are you not cold?" she asked through chattering teeth.

He shrugged before taking a drink. "It's all the hot coffee. You call it an addiction, I call it  survival."

"You are addicted."

"And you're my dealer," he fired back with amusement. "So my coffee intake is as much your fault as it is mine."

She succumbed to her smile as she curled and uncurled her toes to get her blood moving. "Then I guess you should thank me for helping you survive the last four years."

He gave her a long look of amusement before relenting. "You gonna get your ass up here or are we just going to yell at each other for the rest of the night?"

It was tempting to pursue this. Ada couldn't help but enjoy seeing his personality in full swing. But her desire to continue their banter was minuscule compared to her desire for warmth. She cupped her hands and filled them with her warm breath as she finished her journey.

Ada made her way down the alley and into the door in the back, going up the steps to Mr. B's apartment. There was little heat in the hallway, but it still brought warmth to her freezing skin. Noticing the door was wide open, Ada stepped inside. She took off her shoes when she stepped in and dropped her purse next to them. As she already texted her dad to let him know she would be late, Ada didn't bother grabbing her phone.

"You're shaking," Mr. B pointed out. "Where's your coat?"

Ada watched as he grabbed a black zip up sweatshirt from a chair and put it around her, then rubbed her arms for friction "It wasn't cold when I left for work. It hasn't been cold like this for over a week. Guess I kinda figured winter was over." Her breath was shaky as she spoke the words, and she tucked herself into the oversized sweatshirt.

The aroma on the shirt hit her with the familiar scent of peppermint and chocolate. There didn't appear to be a fresh coffee stain on the sweatshirt, causing Ada to wonder if he consumed enough of his signature drink that it was now just radiating from his body like a useless, not-so-super power.

Ada looked past him at the spacious living room with virtually nothing in it. There was a bookshelf half full with a slight lean to it and had three boxes filled with books next to it. The shelf was clearly too small to house the books he had.

There was an ugly tan knitted fabric couch and a gray leather chair with a giant rip in it. An acoustic guitar propped against the bookshelf that was a foot away from the freshly painted wall. No end tables or lamps. No living room table. The television sat on top of two unpacked boxes.

"No wonder you've been spending so much time at the coffee shop. This place is depressing as hell." The chill left her bones, her slow, shallow breaths finding a more normal rhythm.

Mr. B looked around, taking in what she was seeing. "It is, isn't it? I told you I was a shitty decorator."

It was clear he hadn't even tried. It was as if he chose the rejects from the nearest thrift shop. Like Charlie Brown picking out that poor sad sap of a tree. They were pathetic furnishings for an otherwise incredible apartment.

Ada put her arms in the sleeves of the sweatshirt and zipped it up before she glanced around, trying to imagine all the potential this place had.

There was a dining area with nothing in it, a small balcony with no outdoor furniture, and a desk in front of the balcony doors with nothing on it.

"I feel your judgement," he said from somewhere behind her.

"You should. I'm making it obvious enough," Ada quipped back.

Ada couldn't bear to stop in the kitchen as she walked through it to get to the rest of the apartment. Minus a tower of to-go boxes and empty beer bottles, there was no sign that he used it for its actual purpose.

His bedroom appeared just as sparse as the rest of it.

Ada shook her head and walked back through the kitchen and into the living room. She didn't need to look through the rest of the rooms to know what they looked like. The apartment was filled with large, beautiful rooms that had nothing in them. "No wonder you haven't shaved your divorce beard. This place is miserable, and all it wants is to make you happy."

She spun around to face him just in time to watch him rub at his facial hair.

"My divorce beard?"

"It seems too early to call it your mid-life crisis beard."

He let out a melodramatic sigh of relief. "Well, thank God for that."

"Not that you can tell by the grays," she added in for a little extra burn. There were few grays in his otherwise sandy brown beard and hair, with only a small patch by each of his temples. "What are you, around forty-five?"

Mr. B glared at her. "I'm thirty-four." Ada's face broke out into a grin. "You're evil."

She sat on the hideous sofa, feeling a broken spring dig at her thigh. "If I was evil, I would have called it a 'hipster beard', which is exactly what you look like these days."

Any amusement in Mr. B's face disappeared. "Did you just call me a hipster?"

Ada looked over at him and it was as if she was watching the color drain from his face. "Go look in the mirror real quick."

He appeared skeptical as he stared at her for what felt like a full minute. Finally, he rubbed at his beard and walked through the kitchen toward his bathroom. "Son-of-a-bitch," she heard him say out of sight.

Ada laughed and let down her hair, running her fingers through the blonde strands to rid them of the ponytail bump.

He walked back in, arms crossed as he stood in the kitchen's archway. "You've been letting me walk around like this for two months."

The comment flabbergasted Ada. Sure, they were friends, but he was hardly in the right mind frame to take any criticism. This was the first opportunity she'd had to bring it up where she felt he wouldn't have given her the silent treatment for it.

"Screw you. I'm not your keeper," she replied, putting her legs beneath her and shifting away from that damn couch spring.

He shook his head and walked toward the kitchen. "What do you want to drink? I've got beer you can't have or I've got coke."

"I'm good," Ada shouted back to him. She wasn't a fan of caffeine this late and couldn't stand the taste of beer even if he allowed her one. "This place has a lot of potential though."

"If you wanna decorate it, you go right ahead," he said as he strolled back into the room with an open beer bottle. "You think you know me well enough to be up to the challenge?"

Ada was only now getting to experience the true him. Sad to think in a month she would no longer be his student and he would no longer be her adviser or teacher. Soon he would just be a customer, and not long after that she'd only run into him on holidays and in the summer. The thought sunk in, leaving Ada to feel disheartened.

She forced the thought aside, not wanting him to see her sad. "I think I know you well enough." Or at least Ada was starting to. She thought she could capture Mr. B's personality in the sizeable space. All she'd have to do is keep it simple, rustic, and comfortable.

Mr. B plopped next to her and took a slow chug of his beer. "I'll make a deal with you. You find it, and if I like it, I'll buy it."

He extended his hand, and Ada shook it. "You got yourself a deal, Mr. B."

It was her way of leaving her mark on his life. She didn't want to be just another one of his students among the hundreds who came and went from his life. She wanted him to remember her after she left for college and he gained a whole fresh batch of students.

He was such an important part of her life. He was a teacher who inspired her, and mentor who looked out for her, and an advisor who guided her and helped her find her strengths during all those times she felt weak.

"We're not in school, you know," he half joked. "You can use my first name."

Ada scrunched her nose. She'd only used his first name a handful of times since her freshman year. He had her use his first name then because he wanted to appear more a friend and confidant rather than just a teacher. Both were things she'd desperately needed at the time, and the start of their friendship back then was something that gave her a strength and confidence she'd never had before.

Why she stopped using it when she returned as a sophomore, she didn't know. "Won't that be weird?"

"Weirder than being in my apartment?" he countered, leaning back on the couch. "Besides, everyone uses it at the paper. I mean, you don't have to use it if you don't-"

"I want to," she reassured him, "I do."

"So..."

Ada let out a slight laugh. "So..."

"Oh my God," Mr. B yelled, his eyes growing larger and his lips turning upwards, "you don't remember it, do you?"

It only took her a moment to remember. "Tom?"

"And Ada gets an 'A'."

She clapped her hands in dramatic triumph. "Did everyone call you Tommy when you were growing up?"

He grinned. "They did. Do your parents call you Adrian or Ada?"

"Ada. They said I'd grow into an Adrian, but I'm more of an Ada, I think. They named me after a painter, Adrian Piper. My mom loves her, but I find her art creepy. Anyhow, Piper's my middle name and would have suited me better."

"I can see you as a 'Piper', but I like you as an 'Ada' too."

To hide the blush taking over her face, Ada looked around the empty room once more, her eyes focusing on the under-sized leaning bookshelf. "Are all those boxes filled with books?"

Tom turned to get a better view of where she was looking. "Yup. I've got two more boxes in the guest bedroom."

Ada stood and walked over to the shelf, peering down at the giant boxes filled to the brim. "There's so many of them."

"They keep me company."

Seeing as Tom was an English teacher, the amount shouldn't have surprised her. "Which one's your favorite?"

"I don't wanna tell you," he admitted after giving her a closed-lipped smile. "You're gonna make fun of me."

His comment only piqued her interest more. "Tell me." Though Tom shook his head, she realized he wouldn't put up much of a fight if she persisted. "Come on. Please?"

Tom let out a sigh and ruffled his already disarrayed sandy brown hair. "A Light In The Attic."

Ada had to think for a few moments. The name sounded familiar. She just had to place it. Eventually, she shook her head in defeat. "Remind me."

"'Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray thee Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray thee Lord my toys to break. So none of the other kids can use em. Amen.' It's a collection of children's poems by Shel Silverstein. He wrote 'The Giving Tree'."

That title she remembered. "So your favorite book is a children's book?"

Tom rubbed at his hair once again and leaned back against the sofa, causing it to creak. "My favorite book as a kid was 'The Giving Tree'. For my eighth grade graduation, my uncle gave me that book of poems, signed by Shel Silverstein. It was a huge deal, because I guess he didn't enjoy giving out his autograph. Anyhow, my uncle died in a motorcycle crash a few months later, so that was the last thing he gave me.

"He was my favorite person in the world growing up. I idolized the guy which annoyed the hell out of my mom cause he was a misfit, but I just thought he was so damn cool. He was kind of like the author; playful, but a tough guy who looked like he could kick your ass three ways to Sunday."

Ada looked down, wishing she hadn't brought it up. Still, it was something extra she knew about him and, by the tone of his voice, he seemed okay talking about it. "That sounds kinda like my dad," Ada responded, not sure of what else to say. "What about the guitar?" she asked, changing the topic. "Do you play or do you just keep it around to impress people?"

Though she couldn't hear it, she watched as his body moved in a silent chuckle. "Nah, I play. Not as much as I used to, though. Do you play anything?"

She shook her head. "No. I took piano lessons for about two years when I was a kid, but I'm pretty sure by the end I was worse than when I started."

"So, what is your hobby?"

Ada wished she had a better answer than the one she gave. "Studying?"

Tom's expression didn't waiver. "Try again."

There were other things, which only made her look more pathetic. "Cooking."

His features softened, and he seemed to accept her answer. "I can't cook to save my life."

"I could tell by the mountain of to-go containers."

Tom laughed and nodded. "It's either food to-go or mac and cheese. I tried making a grilled cheese last week, but it set off the smoke alarms."

The words caused Ada to cringe a little inside. She made a mental note that if she ever ended up back in this apartment for whatever reason, she'd have to teach him how to cook for himself.

Ada went back over to the couch and plopped herself down, glancing over at him as he took a drink of his beer and he gave her a side eye when he noticed she was looking at him.

"What?"

Ada twisted the bottom of her shirt. "Is it weird having me here?"

Tom took one last chug before the bottle popped from his mouth. "It's weird that it's not as weird as it should be."

"Right?" Ada exclaimed too loud. "I was expecting this to be some awkward thing where I'd have to make an excuse to leave-"

"Or I'd have to make an excuse to get you to leave. As soon as I got up here, I started wondering what the hell I was thinking inviting you over," he admitted. "Whenever we've had any actual conversations, it's always been on neutral ground. And gets cut short most of the time. But this is easier than I thought it would be."

Ada nodded her agreement. "Yeah, it is." She wasn't sure how, but this was natural. Their personalities fit despite their difference in age, and she felt comfortable with him despite their roles in each other's lives.

Whether this was right or wrong didn't matter to her anymore. She enjoyed this. "It's nice."

Tom smiled at her and set his now empty beer bottle on the table. "Yeah, it is."

************************

Ada closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. She'd spent over two hours chatting and joking with Tom Bennet. Talking to each other had been so effortless that they hadn't noticed the late hour. Once he did notice the time, he sent her home.

On the drive, Ada couldn't erase the smile plastered on her face. She hadn't had a conversation like that in forever. It was nice being herself and having it accepted. But more than that, it was incredible seeing him be himself with her.

He was interesting, friendly and amusing. He showed himself to her so freely that it was impossible not to feel special because of it. This was a different side of him she never knew existed, and now all she could do was hope she wouldn't go back to being just another student in the morning.

"You were out late," her father spoke from the kitchen table.

Ada was so fixated on not waking anyone up, she hadn't noticed the person who was already there. "I know. I'm sorry. Am I in trouble?"

"Did you do anything worth gettin' in trouble for?" he asked.

Ada quickly shook her head. The only person who could get in any trouble was Tom, though they did nothing to call for it. Still, no matter how innocent, she couldn't imagine the school being okay with a student being in his apartment. "Just hanging out with a friend and time kind of got away from me."

Her father gave her a long stare. He was a teddy bear to her, but he could be a frightening-looking man at first glance. A cross between a bohemian, biker and southern rancher, he appeared like he could handle anything and brought the fear of God into almost anyone. He was almost fifty, but could outwork men half his age. "He gotta name?"

Ada wasn't sure how her father knew she was hanging out with a guy, considering she didn't have much for guy friends and had only dated one person throughout high school. Perhaps it was just father's intuition.

"Tom," she answered stiffly.

"You datin' Tom?"

Again, Ada shook her head.

Her father cocked his head and pressed his lips together, seeming to study her every flicker of emotion. "You gonna date Tom?"

The thought was so far-fetched that a laugh broke from her lips. Yes, he was attractive. He wasn't overly muscular or a model type, but there was something there that drew people to him. Ada was more drawn to his personality. He was just an all around likable guy and a kind person. His attractive appearance was something she noticed her freshman year, but faded into the background.

But date him? Even if they weren't in the positions they were in. Even if he wasn't fresh out of a lifetime relationship, dating him would still be improbable. Ada didn't date anymore. It was a small enough town that if there was someone she connected to in it, she would have found them by now. She'd wait until college before trying again.

"No," she stammered once her laugh died off.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," her father said, hitting the table with his palm before rising from the kitchen chair. "I'm hittin' the sack. Your momma's got a doctor's appointment tomorrow. The appointment's at two and I'm not sure how late it's gonna go. You're gonna have to pick up your brother from school."

"But I have newspaper after school tomorrow," she argued, feeling selfish as soon as the words escaped her mouth. "I'm sure I can get out of it though."

She didn't want to. With school over in a month, there were only three meetings left. Since they were already getting articles for the final issue, Ada's job as editor-in-chief was to make sure that final issue was perfect. Skipping a meeting would not be easy, but saying 'no' to her dad was pretty much impossible.

"You're a good kid, you know that?"

Ada smiled as if she'd just received a pat on the head. She couldn't help it, she was a daddy's girl. "I knew that."

"Go to sleep. It's one in the morning and you got school tomorrow."

She'd forgotten it was only Wednesday and mentally scolded herself for staying out as late as she did. She would be regretting it in the morning. At least she'd finished her homework at the cafe.

Ada went down to her bedroom, a finished walk-out basement she had all to herself. After washing her face and changing into her pj's she crawled underneath her covers and hoped that sleep came soon.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Author's Note:

Please let me know how you found this book. I always find that part interesting for some reason.

Also, who's your favorite character so far?

What's your favorite line from the chapter?